And Yet I Continue To Play The Game
by Raicheda-Gives-Ya-An-Idea
Summary: Be it Poker, Clowning around or the process of becoming a Noah, allen refuses to submit, why because the cards are always in his favour, and Allen is careful to make sure it remains that way. Dark Allen. Allen is asleep in black order dungeon.


And Yet I Continue To Play the Game

What is a friend? But someone so easy to deceive and betray. What is a love? When the person you admire is blind to a fault, who is your ally? When you've twisted and turned so much in the dark that your mind is to hide its decrepit form. What is darkness? When you've delved further into the abyss than possible, drowning in the acidic blackness of the errors hidden in your soul. Where is the silver lining? When all the clouds merge into a large cloak, stealing the rays of sunlight from your mind.

I have fallen from grace, time has taken them away from me, and madness slowly consumes my every thought, mimicking my every action. I watch my own shadow now as if it is nothing but some puppet on a string, but which mocks me? the puppet or the string, perhaps it is the pupeteer, but wouldn't that be myself as I am supposed to be the one in control, no it doesn't feel like I am, I am no longer the master of my own body.

Deceiving, Deceiving, and Deceiving again,And Yet I continue to play the game that has taken soo much from me, despite my weariness, and with each new game, my hand remains the same, and now I notice it isn't only my own self and surroundings that have become so disformed, but those who challenge me, those who wish to win, their faces all almost the same, filled with the ugly pride, and enthusiasm I once had, or filled with such straightforward simple beliefs they couldn't possibly be playing without having been manipulated, for their pure minds, so blank, soo white, pure.

Yet purity is soo easy to crush, I have danced my way through many of their kind seducing them into submission, and lowering their guards as I subtlely go in for the kill, murder not being the option but planting the steps into their mind, and then bringing them into the dance so they can watch as I their Prima Donna take the stage by storm drawing all attention from them, and make them simply chorus dancers that fail to use my spot light.

And yet I am not satisfied, for no matter how much I corrupt them, only the blackness of my abyss keeps me whole, I can no longer stray into the sulight too long, for it surely blinds me, but the occasional act of innocence, the facade of my poker mask is neccesary.

My mask is heavy, I can not keep clowning around in the shadows forever it seems, for the shadows that lie where my heart should, are leaking through my very pores more often now, revealing to those who I have decieved what I really am, I feel soo irate that there is no way I can possibly act without snapping at my fellow white clowns.

My black mask breaks when it is revealed that no matter how much I cover my path a black lion has been tracking me, ready to consume me at any moment, funny how as a white clown I was to whip into shape the other black circus lions, who always fought back with a vengence always trying to tear me to shreds, ironic how I will soon be forced to submit into the stomach of a black lion, who hunts with a vengence and ferocity that clearly states it would kill its own.

As I lie in the claws of the beast the other lions appear to quell the fury of it's brotherin, who swats them away like flies, their pack leader comes forward to subdue him, but while I remain under the lions heavy paw, with his black fire claws burning their way into my flesh, he readies himself, and the last thing I see as his paw finishes me off, is him lunging at the pack leader, aiming for the throat.

I awaken with a gasp and almost laugh hysterically at the irony of the dream, the key word being almost, it is no good to seem like i've already become insane to the order when they have me imprisoned and ready to be charged for heresy, for being the Fourteenths host and to also protect whom-ever it is I am supposed to 'Love' that I would kill to truly become a noah.

Ah, another thing the dream had failed in acknowledging other than my not liking, but simply acting 'The Gentleman' towards others policy.

Just like The Black Lion that was the Fourteenth, I too Refuse to Submit.  
"Just Try and Consume me Fourteenth, The Deck is ALWAYS in MY Favour."


End file.
